Scorched earth: first sight at the Prom

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The unseasonal wildfire that ravaged the state's largest
national park radiates heat on the Government's burn-off policies,
writes Seamus Bradley.

The fire-scarred slopes of Mount Oberon in Wilsons Promontory
National Park stand as dramatic testament to why country Victorians
call the government agency that manages fire on public land "the
Department of Scorched Earth".

The department was barely a month old when people in the path of
the Alpine fires coined the name in January 2003, long before those
fires, sparked by lightning, had destroyed more than 1 million
hectares of land.

Then, the DSE - officially the Department of Sustainability and
Environment - was blamed for failing to prevent the blaze because
it carried out insufficient numbers of fuel-reduction burns.

But three weeks ago, it was an out-of-control fuel-reduction
burn that scorched the heart of Victoria's most popular national
park, threatened the Prom's only township, sparked a dramatic
midnight evacuation of hundreds of campers, forced an 18-day
closure of the park, hurt local businesses and tour operators, and
sparked media outrage.

Much of the criticism focused on how such destruction could be
allowed to happen and who should be held responsible.

The department's defence has two strands: it is impossible to
predict the unpredictable - the hot northerlies that fanned the
fire east and south through the southern half of the park were
unseasonal - and once a raging wildfire has started it is
impossible to stop.

The Prom fire started out as a routine hazard reduction burn on
Monday, March 21 and for several days it was "textbook", says Jim
Whelan, the ranger in charge at Wilsons Promontory National
Park.

The first sign of trouble came on the afternoon of Friday March
25 when hot winds blew the fire across the road to the east of
Tidal River. It was brought under control the next morning.

There's a lot of cool burn, a lot of no burn and a few areas of hot burn, which in an ecological sense is really good, providing refuges for animals.
- JIM WHELAN, park ranger

About 11pm on Thursday, March 31 - 10 days after the initial
burn - smoke filled the air at Tidal River but conditions were so
calm that most people, including off-duty park and fire fighting
staff, were in bed.

Staff on patrol around the town reported nothing amiss. The
sense of normality was backed up by the weather forecast. Augmented
by four weather stations brought to the Prom to help predict
conditions during the fire, the forecast showed nothing worrisome,
Mr Whelan says.

Within 15 minutes all hell broke loose. Suddenly, he says, hot
winds blew in from the north-west, pushed the fire across the river
into swamp country and up beyond the houses at Tidal River. "It was
that quick."

Firefighters are taken by helicopter to fight fires in the national park this week. Photo:Simon O'Dwyer

As the evacuation siren wailed, staff began a 45-minute struggle
to help tourists evacuate as firefighters fought raging flames.

From the safety of Norman Bay beach, sitting on blankets and
drinking cups of tea and coffee provided by the parks service, up
to 600 tourists that night were treated to the most terrifying and
awesome sight of their lives - all 716 metres of Mount Oberon lit
up in flames.

Meanwhile, the fire was cutting a swathe east across the Prom in
what would become a ragged four-to-five-kilometre-wide band of
black and brown mottled with green. It also travelled south inside
a 6200-hectare area that accounts for about 13 per cent of the
park. But it was a slow fire. It took three days to travel 12
kilometres to the southern tip of the Prom, with spot fires
threatening the historic lighthouse on April 3.

Though the catalogue of what was saved in the fire - lives, cars
and buildings - far outweighs what was lost - toilet blocks and
boardwalks - criticism was swift and often vitriolic, even from
some of those whose lives had been saved at Tidal River.

The anger has much to do with the status Wilsons Promontory
holds in the national psyche. Any disaster there can have a
profound impact on public sentiment and fire management.

When a grazier's fire blackened 75 per cent of the Prom in
January 1951 - raging through 25 kilometres of the park from
Vereker Range to the lighthouse in less than seven hours - fire was
excluded from Wilsons Promontory for decades, with a policy to
extinguish every fire.

This artificial burning regime means the Prom "now has more fuel
on it probably than at any other time in its history," says Mr
Whelan.

But this latest fire may have a lasting impact on fire
management in Victoria by informing a review currently under way,
he says. The fire was fought by hand, with crews flown by
helicopter in to the toughest terrain. No bulldozer tracks were
cut, unlike during the alpine fires, making the park's recovery
faster and far, far cheaper. "Roads bring in vermin and weeds, so
we're miles ahead from that perspective," he says.

From the ground, parts of the burned zone look vast with
destruction but some green is already shooting up. From the air,
though, the Prom looks like a mosaic of black, brown and green
surrounded by a vast, raggedy, blue-sea-fringed quilt of
vegetation.

"There's a lot of cool burn, a lot of no burn and a few areas of
hot burn, which in an ecological sense is really good, providing
refuges for animals," Mr Whelan says.

While being wound down, the fire effort is not over. About 30
firefighters, down from 250, are flown out to fire hot spots each
morning. Infrared imaging shows up a couple of new hot spots most
days. No really heavy rain, which is needed to extinguish any
smouldering embers, is yet forecast.

Mr Whelan says the fire has provided Tidal River with a buffer
against wildfire for up to a decade and makes further fuel
reduction burns in the park much safer. The media often reports
wildfire in terms of destruction, he says. "It's not destruction,
it's rejuvenation."